Day 8: Feb 8
I have renewed these in lieu of the Refugee Ban in the USA. Inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I am writing every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can donate here or please spread the word. Thank you.
A tantalizing sweetness buffeted the air, coy and floral. Stopping, Azana peered into the hoary brush. Dead twigs and cobwebs thick as moss tangled around the dreary landscape. Most of it rose nearly equal to her height. Once it must have been a wondrous sight, but now it held nothing living. So where was the scent coming from?
Azana scoured the dreary shadows, piercing shapes and outlines around colors. Nothing. She close her eyes and followed the scent. Her nose led her forward. Hands out, she ran into a prickly bush.
Pulling her hand away, Azana sucked on her bleeding finger. And then she saw it. The source of the sweet scent.
There among the gray twigs and drooping cobweb-moss and needle-sharp thorns, was a dainty rose. Milky grey, like a dreary snowy day, it rustled on its stem, underside petals a touch darker than the rest. It was the most common and colorless thing Azana had ever seen! And yet… It was the sweetest thing she had ever smelled.